Author's Note: Welcome back, my scattering of old and new readers! I have been receiving a very warm welcome so far to my return. And that has been very nice :)
Now, a direct continuation.
Over The Hills And Far Away
"Oh sweet Jesus," Emily whimpered over to Hotch as she looked at the gore running down Derek's face while listening to his screams, "what the . . .?!"
It wasn't even possible to get the question out, before Hotch gently cut her off.
"I know Prentiss," he murmured back while shooting her a look, "I know. But we have to deal with it. Just uh," he jerked his head towards the back, "get the uh, the kit. That first aid kit JJ mentioned. Get that, and the gloves and some blankets to warm him, and we'll just," he swallowed as his gaze snapped back to Morgan's face, "deal with it."
Hotch's voice faded off on the last few words. Because really, how the FUCK they were going to deal with it, he didn't know! Clearly none of their first aid training covered removing a God damn TREE from someone's SKULL!
And that was the horrifying task in front of them!
"Right," Emily swallowed and blinked, trying to will away the moisture that had formed in her eyes, "right, the kit."
She turned then, stumbling past Reid who was looking dazed still strapped in and rubbing the side of his head. And as Hotch snapped on the dome lights, she was trying to climb over to get into the way back of the SUV. But that's when she saw the impact that the other car had made. It had crushed in the third row passenger side almost a foot. There was no longer any path there to get around the seats.
And she couldn't see JJ anywhere.
"JAYJE!" She yelled while scrambling up onto her original seat to peer down, "JAYJE! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Just then she spotted JJ lying crumpled up on the floor mats, which was right when she heard Hotch from the front seat.
"WHERE IS SHE?! IS SHE ALL RIGHT?!"
"Um," Emily murmured anxiously while twisting to climb over the seat back, "I don't know! I can see her on the floor, but she's not answering me!"
As she got into the crunched up back row with her friend, Emily reached down, running both her eyes and her hands along JJ's body, looking for blood, and feeling for trauma. Fortunately she couldn't find anything.
At least nothing obvious.
"JJ," she pleaded then while slipping her hands under her back, now feeling for wet spots, "please answer me! Are you okay!?"
There was still no response, but Emily was at least comforted by the thumping she could feel from her friend's heart. Even through her jacket it was a steady beat.
As was the pulse she found in JJ's throat.
"She's alive!" She yelled excitedly over to Hotch, "but I don't know what's wrong with her! I mean," her gaze bounced from one end of JJ's body to the other, "she wasn't belted in, so she might have hit her head I guess, but I don't see any blood!"
"All right!" Hotch hollered back while scrubbing his hand across his forehead, trying to make himself heard over the sound of Morgan's continuing wails, "we'll assume she just got knocked out! But as long as she's breathing all right, and you don't see that she's bleeding, leave her for a minute and find the kit and the gloves! We'll take care of Morgan first!"
In response to that game plane, he heard Emily yell a, "right!" as she bounced up, twisting to reach into the way back storage, "the kit!"
Though Hotch hated to just abandon JJ on the floor, they had to prioritize the wounded. And Morgan obviously had to take the full priority at the moment. Once they had him stable though, they'd get back to JJ. Hotch's gaze shifted.
And Reid.
Though he was at least conscious, he didn't look good. And as evidenced when Hotch leaned over and snapped his fingers in Spencer's face, it took him at least a second to look up.
And his eyes still weren't focused.
God damn it . . . Hotch's teeth ground together . . . five of them in the SUV, three of them with a likely head injury, one CRITICALLY injured, and they were lost out in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, during a snowstorm!
Could it GET any worse?!
"How's it GOING back there, Prentiss?!" He called tightly, trying not to sound like an asshole. But seconds were being lost that they did NOT have to lose!
"I'm looking," came the muffled response, "I found the blankets, but the accident made a mess of everything here! Oh, wait!" She popped up, yelling over her shoulder.
"GOT 'EM!"
In one hand he saw that she now had the med kit, and in the other, the box of gloves.
Two blankets were hanging off her shoulder.
"Great," he twisted around, "throw the kit and the gloves!"
Emily leaned forward so she could toss the two boxes to Hotch, with the best aim she could.
He caught them both against his chest.
And even as she saw him tearing the cellophane off the med kit, she was hurriedly pulling herself back over the seats, trying to keep from dropping the blankets as she moved from one row to the next.
It was just then that everything went quiet. All except for the wind that is. That had been, and still was, a recurrent, sharp whistle, blowing in since the front passenger window had been smashed. But realizing what it meant that the wind was the only sound left, Emily's head snapped up.
Morgan had stopped screaming!
"Hotch?!" She called out, again half in a panic while stumbling forward the last step, "is he . . ."
"Yeah," Hotch gave a sharp nod as his hand fell off Morgan's carotid, "yeah, he's still alive. He just passed out. Just as well," he continued with a murmur while going back to digging in the kit, "he doesn't need to be awake for this."
It was astounding that he hadn't passed out when the branch had first gone in. Christ . . . Hotch winced as he looked over him . . . he couldn't even imagine the level of agony he must have been in to lose consciousness.
It really was a testament to his strength that he'd even stayed awake as long as he had.
"How do you want to do it?" Emily asked quietly, trying to keep her voice hard and detached though she was feeling anything but. Because in her mind, she was running through the next ten minutes of her life, and she knew only one thing could be true of them.
They were going to be absolutely horrible.
And she could see from the tightness around Hotch's mouth, that he knew that too. Because he gestured for her to come closer, and when she had moved right up next to the console, he leaned over just in case Morgan could still hear anything they were saying.
"We're going to have to go outside," he whispered in her ear, "it's the only way we'll have the right angle to do it fast. I'll," he swallowed, "I'll pull it out, but that means," he shook his head, "and I'm so sorry about this Prentiss, but you're going to have to be ready to do whatever needs to be done next."
Feeling her stomach flip at the implications there, Emily bit down, hard, on her lip . . . shit. Though she'd figured that the cleanup would be her part of the process, it didn't make it any easier hearing it out loud. But she knew it had to be that way. That branch was thick, and probably heavy. So obviously Hotch would be able to get it yanked out faster than she would.
"We are doing it fast, right?" she murmured back to him, while pushing down a chill from the bitter wind blowing in from the broken side window. And he nodded.
"Yeah," he answered softly, "and I know that's not ideal for the wound itself, but under the circumstances we just need to get it done."
It wasn't as though they had paramedics on standby waiting to WHISK Derek off to an ophthalmological trauma unit that might be able to pull everything back together again. Whether they moved fast or slow, he was losing that eye either way. Hotch swallowed.
No doubt about it.
"Okay, um," Emily ground her teeth together, "well there should be tape in the kit to hold the bandage in place. And I guess if I just get all the pieces torn off first, it should work."
She took a breath, and leaned back slightly.
"You think we have everything we'll need?"
"Yeah," Hotch nodded as he pulled a pair of the rubber gloves out of the box, "and put these on before you do your part," he held a glove up in front of her, "put them over your winter gloves. They should stretch fine. But either way, you need to keep your other gloves on or you won't have the dexterity in your fingers to do anything."
It was so cold out, she'd be lucky if her hands didn't stiffen up even with the two layers. But fortunately, (if that was the word), it was so cold outside, that for their entire ride, it had been chilly in the SUV even with the heat on, so they both were still in their full winter gear. All Hotch had to do was yank his ski hat back on . . . which he quickly did . . . and he was ready to go.
And with Emily already bundled up, he hurriedly helped her finish getting the supplies she'd need from the kit. After they'd put together an oversized bandage with an extra thick gauze pad in the middle, she tore off a dozen small strips of tape, which he made sure were stuck loosely to the glove box.
That way they'd be handy for Emily to grab them when she was bandaging Derek up.
Hotch's thoughts of the steps in their emergency triage, were interrupted by an unexpected question from an unexpected person.
"Can I help?"
It was Reid.
His voice was a bit tentative, and Hotch's head snapped up to look over into his youngest agent's, wide, frightened eyes. One pupil still looked a bit enlarged, probably a concussion there, but for the most part he seemed to be focused now in his attention.
Thank Christ.
Though to Hotch, at that moment, he'd never looked more like the kid that he was.
"Yeah Spencer," he answered softly while tipping his head towards Morgan, "if you're up to it, you could come up here, and get him all covered up as soon as we're done. But also be ready to pass Emily the tape for the bandaging part. It'll go faster."
Though Hotch was saying, "pass Emily the tape" what he really meant was "be ready to hold Derek down" if he wakes up. But hopefully their friend would stay mercifully unconscious, so there was no need to scare the shit out of Reid unnecessarily.
Things were bad enough as it was.
"Okay," Spencer nodded slowly as he shifted forward on the bench seat, "okay, I can do that."
If they were doing all the hard stuff . . . and he could see from his angle behind Hotch's seat, just how bad Derek's injury was . . . the least he could do was help with the tape and the blankets.
So Hotch climbed over into the back, and Reid inched around him so he could climb around into the driver's seat. Of course it would have been easier for them to switch by getting out of the vehicle, but they were trying to conserve as much heat as they could, and there was no reason to be opening and closing the doors more than they had too.
It would make a wind tunnel.
But once everyone was in place, Reid with the folded blankets in his lap/bandage in hand, and Emily both winter and rubber gloved up, Hotch did reach out to grasp the back door handle behind the driver's seat.
"All right, Prentiss," he took a breath, "let me check out there first."
Hearing a faint, "okay," from her, he pushed the door open, and climbed out into the so not magical winter wonderland surrounding them. And though Hotch had thought he would be somewhat prepared for the change in temperature by the wind blowing in through the broken window . . . he wasn't. Because stepping outside was like having tiny little razor blades whipped at his face.
'Bitterly cold,' didn't even begin to describe it.
Not to mention that his boots were buried in at least three inches of snow, which was covering either asphalt or grass, he really couldn't tell. He just knew that they were somewhere to the right of the actual far lane of the bi-way. And that car that had hit them . . . his hand fell to his holster and he squinted while turning to look back and forth in either direction . . . he couldn't see it anywhere. Granted, visibility was not that great, and there weren't any light poles lining the road . . . they just had the glow of the cabin lights and the headlights to see by . . . but still, big black car, wide, white road, it seemed that if the car was still within the immediate vicinity, he'd be able to tell.
But he couldn't.
And it made him a little uneasy to not know where it had gone. Because who the hell rammed somebody off the side of the road during a snowstorm, and then just kept going? The driver should have stopped, or at least slowed down, to see if they were all right.
It was the only DECENT thing to do!
But whatever . . . his jaw clenched as he took a few steps forward . . . he knew better than to expect decency of his fellow travelers on the planet. But for some reason he just kept hoping, and of course they just kept letting him down.
Someday he'd learn his lesson.
But on this day, he tried to shake off his unease about the missing car and driver, because he knew that regardless of the outcome of the accident . . . the grievous injuries to poor Derek . . . that there was no real reason to believe that the jackass had meant them any deliberate harm. Hotch's jaw clenched.
Most likely he was just some idiot driving too fast for the road conditions.
Really . . . he turned his head to look around into the darkened woods behind him . . . what else could it be?
So with no car in sight, and no perceived, 'danger' in the woods immediately around them . . . with their luck a freaking grizzly bear could have been camped out on the side of the road . . . Hotch stepped back and gestured for Emily to come out and join him.
Seeing her face when she jumped down by his side, it was clear from the look of shock that she wasn't ready for the brutality of the wind either.
She smacked the backs of her gloved hands over her face.
"Holy shit!"
"Yeah," he took her arm, pulling her out of the way so he could slam the door shut, "I know. Just move fast."
So with Emily's teeth already chattering . . . he knew she was always cold anyway . . . they ran through the rapidly piling snow, and around the front of the SUV, to get over to Derek's door.
Getting around the front end of the vehicle was easy, actually getting to the passenger door itself, not so much.
Because the God damn tree (like the whole fucking tree) was right there, PRESSED against the front of the SUV! That was not something that had been apparent from their vantage point inside. And now that they were out, and Hotch saw just how thick the outer portion of the branch was that had crashed through the window, his teeth ground together.
"Shit," he pulled Emily closer, leaning down so she could hear him over the wind, "this isn't going to work. It's too thick. I can't break that."
His expertise was in Krav Maga, but they did NOT have a chop maneuver to break off what was essentially a six inch thick LOG!
He'd need a God damn chain saw!
But then he saw Emily's shaking hand pointing to the section closest to Morgan's face.
"Sure you can," her finger hovered over the mossy wood, "break it right there. It's only a couple inches thick. You can use your pocketknife to wear it down."
Though her idea was not a bad one, still Hotch blanched and turned away.
"No, I can't," he muttered back, "I can't do it there. There's no way to maneuver, I'll end up grinding the piece into his brain."
Seeing that Hotch, for one of the few times in their history, was having a moment of personal doubt in his abilities . . . it was almost unheard of . . . Emily's expression softened as she reached out to touch his cheek with the back of her glove. She turned his face back towards her.
When his gaze reluctantly shifted down, she shook her head.
"You won't do that," she responded calmly, "because you'll be careful. I know you will be, because you're always careful. You can do this, and it'll be all right."
It actually wasn't going to be all right at all. But at this point, as far as additional injuries went, there really was LITTLE damage that Hotch could do to Morgan's eye, or even his brain, that hadn't already been done on impact. And she knew that when it came to the odds of accidentally grinding the branch in even further, that, again, it just wouldn't happen. Hotch wouldn't allow it to happen.
Even if he didn't know that, she did.
Feeling his teeth begin to chatter . . . the cold was finally starting to get to him too . . . Hotch looked down at Emily, at the faith he could see in her eyes. And she was never one to bullshit him. Which meant that if she believed that he could do this safely, then maybe he really could.
So he gave her a little nod and she shifted back, out of the way. Then he pulled out his pocketknife, and snapped it open. And with one deep breath, and one silent prayer, he climbed up on the running board, leaned through the window . . . and with one hand bracing his work . . . he oh so carefully, began to saw down on the branch.
And Emily was right, he didn't grind it in. He held it steady. And it only took a dozen slow saws of the blade, to cut through the wood. Fortunately it was a bit dry this late in the season. So now there was just the outer strand of bark holding the smaller end of the branch, onto the larger part of the tree.
He was about to try slicing it, when a pair of scissors suddenly appeared in front of him.
They were the ones from the kit.
"I think these will be steadier," Reid murmured from Morgan's other side.
And he was right. So Hotch snapped his knife closed, and jammed it into his pocket. Then he took the scissors instead.
It took just one final snip . . . and he was done.
But knowing that time was passing, without taking even another breath, he threw the scissors onto the dashboard, and tightened his fist around the remaining shard of wood sticking out of Morgan's face.
He yanked.
Out it came, with bloodied, viscous fluid dripping from the end.
And on the very end, came what was left of Morgan's mangled eye.
Though that had been expected, seeing it pop out, and then the mutilated, bloody, material dangling on his cheek, it was the closest Hotch had ever come to throwing up on the job. Because this wasn't a case, and it wasn't a stranger.
It was his friend.
And his own eyes burned seeing what had become of him. He could also hear Reid choking down a gag, and Emily's moan from his side. But there would be time for grief later.
Now there was still work to do.
So he dropped back, holding the bloodied stick behind him with one hand, and using the other to push Emily around him.
And though he knew how much she was hurting, there was no hesitation in her movements.
She immediately climbed up onto the running board, and leaned over.
Emily sucked in a breath, and went to a place far away in her mind. She was back on her first day at the BAU. Her first real day. The day she'd met the team.
The day she'd met Derek.
When she'd shaken his hand and he'd flashed just a hint of that Colgate grin. He was so handsome and so confident. And while she thought back on their early days, and the friendship he'd offered when nobody else did, in the now, with her cold, rubber gloves, and her mouth twisted in a tight grimace, she tucked the loose bits of drippy goo back into the empty socket. It wasn't sanitary, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.
So with her mind still far in the past, she snatched the bandage they'd prepared, from Reid's shaking hand.
And with the two of them working together, she got it positioned to hold everything in place. Then she quickly taped it down, using the bits that she and Hotch had ripped off a few minutes earlier. It was like wrapping a present, she thought, as the tears finally began to fill her eyes, that's what she was doing, just wrapping a present.
Like that Playboy calendar she'd given Derek as a joke for Christmas. 'Something to keep you busy on Friday nights,' she'd written on the card.
They'd both laughed when he'd opened it.
But now she felt badly. Because she should have given him a real present.
A nice one.
Emily didn't even realize that the tears in her eyes had started to spill over, until they began to freeze on her face. That was also when she realized that the job was done.
The cavity which once held Derek's right eyeball, was covered over now.
Morgan himself was still passed out. Thank God for that small favor. And while she'd been working, Hotch had been able to break off the rest of the branch which had broken through the window.
He'd used his weight to snap it in half.
And when she turned to him, with her bloody gloves, and the tears frozen on her cheeks, he stopped short.
"Oh Emily," he murmured, his face twisting in pain and sympathy, "I'm sorry."
Then he quickly snapped the dirty gloves from her hands, and threw them down into the snow.
A splatter of red in the sea of white.
After that, he tucked her under his arm, and as he hurried them around the vehicle again, with his free hand he was brushing the icy tears from her skin.
Once they'd reached the back door, he yanked it open and helped her up.
He was barely a half a step behind her, his hand on her hip to steady them both with their icy boots. And then they were inside . . . and the door slammed shut.
The wind cut back to a howl.
When they dropped onto the backseat, they were both huffing their breaths, shaking from the cold and the adrenaline. Still though, neither of them paused moving for more than a moment. Once Emily sniffled, "JJ," after a quick pat of support to her arm (all he could do to offer comfort under the circumstances), Hotch immediately turned to help her as she began to crawl over into the third row again.
Once she was kneeling on the back seat, he looked down at the two women, his brow wrinkled with concern as he rubbed his hands together, still trying to get warm.
"How is she?" he murmured worriedly.
"Um," for a second Emily hesitated in her response, "well, she's obviously still out. But," she brushed JJ's hair back, "I can see a bump on her forehead now. It wasn't visible before."
Her still being unconscious was worrisome though. Because it had been a solid seven or eight minutes since the accident.
JJ should have woken up by now.
But then Emily had an idea. With her right hand, she dragged her glove covered fingers along her jacket, scooping up the small bit of snow that had fallen onto her, but hadn't melted yet.
She brushed the residue along JJ's cheek.
Her hope was that the icy water would jar her awake, and she did actually see her head jerk slightly. But when Emily called her name, JJ still didn't open her eyes.
So Emily looked up, and then reached out to do the same thing to Hotch's jacket that she'd just done to her own.
That time she let the water drip right down over JJ's eyes and forehead, again while saying her name. This time more loudly though. And once more her friend seemed to be reacting to the cold water, but she just didn't appear to be fully waking up. And Emily was just about to ask Hotch if he could get her a handful of snow from outside, when she saw a glorious sight.
JJ's lashes began to flutter.
"Oh, Hotch," Emily whispered, just before JJ's eyes popped open.
She blinked, and then groaned.
"What happened?"
Feeling a flood of relief that JJ was once more conscious, and seemed to be in possession of her faculties, Hotch stepped into the conversation.
"We had an accident, and you've been unconscious for a few minutes." He bit his lip, "how do you feel?"
Her color was a bit pasty, but that could just be the cold settling into the cabin.
They needed to cover that God damn hole.
"Um," JJ blinked again, "okay, I think. My head hurts a bit, but not too bad." The she tried to push herself up from where she was wedged down on the floor . . . Hotch and Emily both immediately reached down for her.
And as they helped her up onto the back row of seats, she bit down on her lip.
"I'm also a little nauseous," she added with a faint, worried murmur. And when Emily started to point out that was probably just from the knock on the head, JJ shook her head. Then she looked up at Hotch. Because he was the one that she needed to tell first.
He needed to know.
"I'm pregnant."
And she could see his eyes widen in surprise . . . clearly this was not news he was expecting today. Yeah, well, join the club, Hotch. Because this was not news that she'd been expecting to have to SHARE today! It had been her plan to keep the pregnancy to herself for a few more months. She chewed her lip nervously as her hand lightly pressed against her stomach.
But things change.
"Oh, uh . . ."
For a second Hotch stammered for a response. But then his wide eyes dropped down from JJ's worried ones, to the hidden waist beneath her coat.
"How far along?" He whispered.
"Six weeks," came the quiet response.
Quiet because she was worried not only about the baby . . . the nausea might not be from the head injury . . . but Hotch's reaction to this news. That he might be disappointed in her for an unplanned pregnancy when she wasn't even in a settled relationship. And though she knew that it was stupid to be worried about such a thing right now, she couldn't help it.
His good opinion meant the world to her.
But then she saw his expression soften, and when he looked back at her he reached over and squeezed her shoulder.
"Do you have any pain in your abdomen?"
The tone of his question was one of concern, not of irritation, or condemnation. That made her feel a little better, if not in terms of her condition, at least in terms of his reaction . . . that he wasn't upset.
She shook her head.
"I don't think so," she bit her lip as she gently patted her stomach, "but like I said, I do feel a little sick, and it's about ten hours too late for morning sickness."
"All right, um," Hotch's attention snapped over to Emily . . . she was just staring at JJ in shock.
"Prentiss."
Her eyes darted over to his and he continued softly, but firmly.
"Check under her clothes, front and back, make sure there's no visible bruising around her torso or upper pelvis. If there isn't," his eyes snapped back to JJ's, "and you don't develop any other symptoms that could be related to a problem with the baby, then we'll assume the nausea is just from bumping your head," then he gave her a look, "but you tell us immediately if you start to feel any worse, okay?"
Though he didn't know what they'd be able to do for her if she started to miscarry besides just have her lie down, at least if they could rule out a likely problem with the pregnancy, that would be one LESS concern weighing down on him at the moment. It was shock enough finding out that she was pregnant when he didn't even realize she was seeing anyone.
And he didn't know how he'd live with her losing the baby on his watch.
Feeling her eyes start to sting, JJ gave a sharp nod back.
"Okay."
And she started to unzip her parka as Hotch turned away from her and Emily, moving towards the front of the cab to speak to Reid. And so with Emily's help, JJ quickly loosened her layers, and undid her belt and pants. Then she turned, putting her back to her friend as she lifted her jacket and sweater.
Then she felt that material being tugged a little higher right before Emily murmured, "your back looks fine." Then she dropped her jacket and sweater. So JJ turned around, and as the two women repeated the same process of lifting up the clothes in the front, their eyes met.
For a second they just stared at one another . . . then Emily looked down. Her expression immediately tightened just before she pulled slightly on JJ's pants.
"Turn a little to the right and push your underwear down a bit off your hip," she whispered.
Feeling her tension levels rising . . . obviously she'd just seen something that looked off . . . JJ did as instructed, while still trying to hold up her coat and sweater at the same time. Then she felt Emily's gloved fingers brushing along her skin, pushing the cotton material down a little more.
"There is a small bruise here on your hip," she came back softly, "but it doesn't seem to spread anywhere close enough to where the baby could have been bumped."
Emily's gaze shifted down to the floor where JJ had been lying.
"There," her hand came off JJ's hip to point down to the metal box that was sticking out from under the seat, "the rifle case. You probably fell on it, but," she looked back, up her expression softening when she saw the fear in JJ's eyes, "it really is a very localized mark, and it's right on the hip bone, so I'd be surprised if it hit any soft tissue in the front. And you also only fell down a foot to the floor, so the impact wouldn't have been more than a mild bump too."
Though Emily was of course immensely thankful that it was unlikely JJ's baby had been injured, for some reason she still couldn't voice the "congratulations" that she knew was expected for her to say at the moment of such news being shared. Perhaps it was only the timing of the announcement holding her back. After all, she had just cleaned up shredded eye gore from Derek's cheek.
She wasn't ready yet for happy news.
Still though, she didn't want JJ to worry, so she tried to muster up a faint smile, though it probably came off more like a grimace, as she squeezed her arm.
"I think you're okay."
Then she turned away, reaching out to pull herself up and over the seat.
Hotch absentmindedly tugged Emily down next to him before he went back to doing what he'd just started doing.
Digging through the med kit.
Given that it was brand new, and the 'fanciest' kind they made, there was a lot of crap in it. But after another second, he finally pulled out four small packets of aspirin that he'd been looking for.
Seeing the items in Hotch's hand, Emily immediately shook her head.
"No aspirin for JJ," she murmured, "it'll thin her blood."
For a moment Hotch stared over at her in confusion, but before she had to explain the concern to him . . . if JJ did miscarry, they sure as hell didn't want her on blood thinners while she was bleeding out . . . Emily saw comprehension flash in his eyes.
"Right," he started digging again, "okay." Then he pulled out another packet and looked over with a purse of his lips.
"Tylenol all right?"
"Yep," Emily took it from his hands, "that's fine." She turned to pass it over her shoulder.
"For you," she said as JJ took the little packet from her hands, "and you should probably take some food with it too, so it doesn't bother your stomach anymore than it's already bothered."
"Actually," Hotch cut in, "everybody should eat something with the pills. Even if you're not hungry. Um," he turned, seeing JJ fixing the last of the buttons on her coat, "can you grab my bag and drop it on your seat, or is it not right there on top?"
Under the circumstances, in that they didn't know what was going on in JJ's abdominal cavity, he didn't want her doing anything strenuous. But his bag wasn't that heavy to drag down next to her.
But then he felt Emily touch his arm.
"Actually," she turned and started climbing over the seat, "l'll go, because I just thought of a solution to the window problem. We can use those extra vests. They should block the hole pretty well."
Also, they should pull their regular vests on now anyway. It was another layer of warmth.
And they needed every bit of warmth that they could get.
Hotch's brow wrinkled as he looked up towards the front of the cab.
"It's a good idea," he agreed, "but how are we going to keep them in place?"
"Flex cuffs," Reid cut in from the front where he'd been fixing Derek's blankets, then he leaned around the seat, "we can loop a couple together, hang them around the sun visor and the 'oh shit' handles," he nodded to himself, "it should work."
Feeling a genuine flicker of relief from the overwhelming stress pressing down on him . . . a truly workable solution to a major problem . . . Hotch nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah, you're right, that should work just fine." So he turned. "Emily . . ."
But she cut him off.
"Yeah, I heard. I'll pull out everything we'll need."
So Hotch turned back, muttering, "great. But," his gaze shifted over to the passenger seat, "we also need to move Morgan to the back too."
Even if/when, he woke up, his injuries were obviously much too grievous to allow him to assist in getting them out of this mess. So better to get him strapped down in the way back, where JJ was now, and then they could get moving on, well, getting moving.
The lights in the cab were still working, so he knew the battery was fine, but they'd stalled out when they'd broadsided the stand of trees.
And though it was killing him not to know if they'd be able to drive again yet, he didn't want to even try the engine again until everything else was lined up.
For one thing they'd be wasting their limited gas, but more importantly, when he was outside, he'd seen that their tail pipe was pressed against a large pine tree. And he really didn't wish to take out his entire team with a slight carbon monoxide, "oops." He scowled slightly.
Spinning them off the road and blinding Morgan for life was his one great fuck up for the day.
And in the hopes of more quickly unfucking the major fuckery they were now in, he got up on his knees, before leaning over to scoop JJ off the back seat.
"Whoa," was her only response as she ducked to avoid bumping her head, and he twisted to gently put her down next to him on the bench.
"I don't want you moving around anymore than you have to," he shared by way of explanation. Then he gestured to the front seat.
"Morgan's been hurt pretty badly," he murmured. And seeing JJ's eyes widen in horror at the bloodied bandages clearly visible in the rearview mirror, he had to look away. His next words were directed at Reid.
"Unhook Morgan's seatbelt, but be careful it doesn't snap back on him."
So while Reid was VERY carefully getting Morgan untangled from his belt and JJ was reaching out to touch his arm, Hotch turned to climb over into the back where Emily was digging around in his duffle bag.
"Bottle of water, and bag of nuts," she muttered, "that's what I'm looking for, right?"
"Yeah," he tapped the side of the bag, "they should be in that corner." Then he kept moving passed her to reach into the truck area.
After digging around for a second, he found the stack of vests half buried under the spare tire which had slide against the driver's side wall.
He pulled the whole lot of the vests over onto the seat. And he was about to start looking for the flex cuffs when Emily tapped his thigh.
"Box is on the floor by your feet."
So he leaned down and picked them up.
"All right," he continued softly, "so what else do we need back here? Because once we move Morgan, it's obviously going to be harder to get into the way back again."
They'd be climbing on top of him, which was obviously not a good plan.
And he could see Emily biting her lip as she thought about the question. Finally she tipped her head.
"The flashlights obviously, and I think we should shift all of the duffles to the front so we can pull out more layers as needed. Even with the window blocked, there's obviously going to be a major draft blowing in over there. But the bags should mostly fit under the seats. Speaking of the seats," she lightly tapped the rifle case, "we should get the shells for these too." She looked up at Hotch.
"We still don't know who the hell hit us. Or if they'll come back."
For a second Hotch just stared at her, processing the words she'd just said. Finally his jaw clenched.
"I hadn't thought about them coming back," he shook his head, "and I don't know why."
For whatever reason the thought hadn't occurred to him, and that in and of itself was incredibly short-sighted and stupid. Stupid enough that he felt a wave of shame wash over him.
Because if he didn't start getting a better handle on this situation, he was going to get them all killed.
That thought was the cold truth of the matter, so when he felt Emily touching his leg, it was with reluctance that his gaze shifted over to hers.
When he did, her expression softened and she leaned closer.
"Stop feeling guilty," she whispered, hoping the others wouldn't hear them talking over the whistling wind, "you don't have to think of everything. Nobody expects that from you, except you. And we're going to get out of this, but we're going to do it by working together. Teamwork helps us build every profile, gets us through every case, and this situation is no different." Suddenly flashing on Morgan's mangled face, she sucked in a ragged breath. "It's just a little more personal."
Good Christ was it personal. Her eyes started to burn . . . poor Derek. One random missing persons case out of the hundreds he'd worked, and he ends up losing his eye in the most horrific way she could imagine. And the real irony was, even though they lived dangerous lives, with dangerous jobs, he wasn't even doing anything DANGEROUS when it had happened! He just happened to be the one sitting in that seat, on this trip.
It could have been any one of them.
Which was why she didn't want Hotch getting sucked down into the guilt that she knew he was feeling. It was a constant with him, the worrying about their safety. Worrying that he would let them down. But none of this was his fault.
It just was.
And as she looked over at him, looking over at her, she could see him biting his lip. Then the hand that she had pressed down on his leg, was being picked up and cradled in his two larger ones. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her ear.
"I'm really glad you're here," he murmured, "you help me keep my head on straight."
They'd had two plus, hard, years of professional bonding, and then six weeks ago some things had happened over the holidays that had jumped them ahead leaps and bounds in the area of personal bonding. And then after what had happened in that bar in Stafford, he couldn't deny that his level of trust in Emily, not just as a colleague, but as a true confidante, had completely solidified. So if they were going to get out of this, then he was going to need to keep her as his right hand. And he was going to have to LISTEN to the advice she gave him.
No going it alone tonight.
And he could tell from the way Emily sucked in her breath, and squeezed his fingers, that his words had touched her. And he was just about to ask (quietly) if she had any thoughts on what else he should do for JJ, when suddenly he heard a noise. It was muffled, and somewhat distant, but still . . . it seemed horribly familiar. And he could tell from the way Emily's nails dug into his palm . . . through both layers of their leather gloves . . . that she'd heard it too.
His wide eyes shot up to hers, as they heard Reid calling down worriedly from the front, "what is that?! Did you guys hear that?!" And then JJ, "hell yes, I heard that!"
She turned back to look at Hotch and Emily in the next row, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.
"Was that an animal?!"
Before Hotch could answer, the sound came again from off in the distance. That time they all scrambled to pull their weapons. Because that time there was no doubt what that sound was. It wasn't an animal. It was a person.
And that person was screaming.
A/N 2: Yes, it was awful to pop out Derek's eye, BUT, you didn't really think he was going to be able to use it again after a tree went through it, right? No. And like Hotch said, no trauma team on standby to even try. So Derek is down, and JJ's pregnancy, I felt in her position, it would not be in my best interest to keep that a secret from them any longer. It would have actually just been kind of dumb. So one more element in play for the story, as is Reid's concussion. It was a long 'live' chapter, but I needed that for some relationship building 'betwixt' most of the major players. Because things will get busier next time around, so you have to fit that layering stuff, in where you can :)
And yes once more we ended with screaming, but this time it is of a different 'cause' ;)
Thanks everyone!